The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 268

Chapter 268: 268 | The Bloodline-Ending Position [PS BONUS]

"Working on it."

The constructs around her waist had somehow gotten tangled with the utility belt of her costume during the struggle. When I tried to pull them back, the motion only tightened the grip, which pressed her more firmly against me and caused her to gasp in a way that sent heat straight through my nervous system.

My brain registered several important facts simultaneously. First, Petra’s costume was designed to showcase every curve of her figure, and from this distance I could appreciate exactly how successful that design had been. Second, the amber glow of my constructs was reflecting off the emerald fabric in ways that made her skin look luminous. Third, the position we were in would require very careful maneuvering to escape without making things significantly worse.

"Your constructs are—" She paused, her cheeks flushing darker as she became aware of exactly where the amber light was wrapped around her. "This is highly inappropriate."

"Tell me something I don’t know."

I tried to dissolve the constructs entirely, but the feedback from punching through her barrier was still scrambling my concentration. Instead of disappearing cleanly, they flickered and reformed in slightly different positions, one of them sliding lower around her hips while another wrapped higher beneath her—

"Stop moving them!"

"I’m not doing it on purpose!"

Petra’s struggles to free herself only made the situation exponentially worse. Every twist and shift caused her costume to ride up or pull tight in new ways, and my constructs kept responding to the movement by adjusting their grip. The emerald fabric was apparently designed for maximum flexibility, which meant it stretched and moved with her body in ways that left very little to imagination.

"Your Aspect is completely out of control!"

"Yeah, well, your costume is completely—"

I caught myself before finishing that sentence, but Petra’s eyes narrowed as she filled in the blank. Her face flushed deeper, anger and embarrassment warring across her aristocratic features.

"My costume is what?"

"Nothing. Forget I said anything."

"My costume is what, Belmont?"

The way she said my name carried enough venom to kill a small village. Her emerald eyes blazed with fury, but she was still pressed against me and my constructs were still wrapped around her waist and the position was still intimate enough that I could count her individual eyelashes.

"Distracting."

The admission hung in the air between us like a live grenade. Petra’s expression shifted through several emotions too fast for me to track, settling on something that looked like mortification mixed with rage.

"You—I—this is—" She took a breath that pressed her even more firmly against my chest. "You are the most infuriating person I have ever encountered."

"Thanks. I work hard at it."

"That was not a compliment!"

She tried to pull back, which only caused my constructs to shift again. This time one of them caught the utility belt of her costume and pulled it sideways, which caused the entire top half of her outfit to slip lower across her chest than physics should have allowed.

Petra froze completely.

I froze completely.

Percy made a choking sound from across the room.

The emerald fabric had shifted just enough to reveal the lace edge of what was obviously very expensive undergarments, and the molecular engineering that made her costume so perfectly fitted also made it completely incapable of staying in place when supernatural forces were involved.

"Don’t. Look. Down."

"Too late."

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